Featherweight
by Reevee21
Summary: Just the thoughts of an angel after being abandoned by his own company, left in this black void with nothing else. Also his thoughts while on his steady path back to life, and last musings over how they're all just featherweights in the eyes of a gamer. (Deep stuff I pulled from my head while in a poetic mood)


**I love Pit.**

**I really, really love Pit.**

**And in case you guys haven't noticed from my favorites list, I also love people who make deep-ended one-shots like this.**

**…****I might have an addiction to them both.**

**And me being me, and me being such a ****_Kid Icarus _****stalker, I just COULDN'T HELP BUT NOTICE the crazy and long-winded tale of this series. And then came along the fact that I needed some practice with putting characters in bottomless voids (****_A Smasher's World 2 _****and ****_Heirlooms, _****I'm looking at you), and I just couldn't resist!**

**Anyways…this is a one-shot I pieced together out of the leftovers of my brain, glued together with facts and trivia, then blowtorched several times over with my one-shot-loving, poetry-trained mind.**

**…****SO BASICALLY IT'S A VASE MADE FROM MY NERDINESS!**

**DISCLAIMER: ****I don't own the Kid Icarus series or anything Nintendo related, including ****_Captain N, Warioware, Duck Hunt, Mega Man, Punch-Out!, Starfox, Mario, Legend of Zelda—_****you get the idea. **

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><p><strong><em>Featherweight <em>**

A weak grip surrounded him, like that of a net or water.

It could quite possibly be water, but with his breath gone and any physical form erased, he couldn't be sure. He couldn't be sure about a lot of things, actually; where he was, what this feeling was, and when he could last feel being among them.

He could remember a few things of his past; there had been a grand adventure of monster-slaying and goddess-rescuing in his early days, involving three worlds and a very, very ugly woman. By taking out three guardians, he obtained three treasures to save said goddess. His prize?…that part was a little scrambled, but he was definitely sure there had been a prize.

After that, a few years later if he remembered correctly, a great demon was causing trouble and he had to put a stop to it. There was some odd ending, something about his wings melting off? Was that why he was here? Was this death? How was that possible, if he was a being supposedly born from a spirit?

The next bit of memory said otherwise but barely came, he could only recall something about an "-icus" being added occasionally to his words…and something about a game master.

Lastly, the scattered memories too vague and far-apart to be considered such. Like playing a violin as a victory orchestra, or a mini-game involving dodging enemies while in flight.

And then his days had suddenly stopped and left him here, in this darkened place, held in place only by the strange force of that grip. He had no idea how long it had been. It was like being suspended above death, the way he was all alone and seemed to be holding on by a thread.

But he couldn't bring himself to believe he was dead, because he deemed this place unworthy of an afterlife sort of place. And he should at least start seeing things as his soul would…right? He simply couldn't be dead.

A long while ago, it seemed fair to call it years, the grip had begun to pull him upwards. Like being risen from a pit (heh, Pit), slow and steady.

But then all at once it had stopped, and he was suspended again by the strong yet invisible grasp. He deemed the grip to be memory; he was still being held inside hearts and the back of minds, even if he couldn't get back into the living world.

The grip had gotten strong again a good while later, and he raised his hopes that he would be back…

He never was. He remained in this void, but he could recall the faint sounds of two happy, cheering laughs from somewhere around him. The noise, even on the fringe of his hearing, satisfied his rage and confusion at not being back; someone else had gotten that chance instead. A chance to feel and breathe again…

If he could sigh, he would sigh, into this strange place's inexistent air, a sigh carrying away all his impatience and loneliness. Maybe a sigh would bring some kind of life into this place, or at the very least keep him from going mental…

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><p>Some kind of honorable mention must have been made from wherever the owners of the laughter went, because the grip had gotten stronger than ever. Excitement peaked in him for some unexplainable reason, like how one would get excited from other people's ecstatic moods.<p>

That feeling lasted for the rest of the time he was in that place, being his beacon at the end of the tunnel or daylight at the end of a nightmare. It wavered at times, and he felt his heart leap into his throat at times like that.

He didn't want to be left in this darkness anymore. If this was the darkness that defeated enemies went to, he found himself in a very wrong place. They would be perfectly happy here, with the dark they served or commanded keeping them company.

But he hated dark. He wanted the light. The beautiful, warm, glowing light.

But then the grip would strengthen again, and relief would wash back to him. There was going to be light soon.

After a while of patient waiting, he suddenly found his senses overloaded. Light hit his eyes like a smack to the face, sound rushed into his ears, air entered into him and made him light-headed with its breathy self.

His head was pounding, he felt numb in all his form, and a dizzy, colorful haze had masked over his vision. But he could sense himself falling and hitting the ground on his rear, shaking in shock.

Unidentifiable sounds flowed into his hearing, sounding a bit like…voices. Not the grainy, unspecific beeps and chirps from the eight-bit days of communication: on-key, language-filled voices of many tones, accents, and pitches, as diverse and unique as their speakers.

It took him a little to collect his bearings again, and took note that he was much taller than when he once was.

There was someone in front of him, asking in an Italian voice, "Pit, are you alright?"

Instinct made a dry, raspy noise from somewhere in his throat respond—it felt more like sand than an actual answer. His vision cleared up, and he could identify the one before him as a tall, skinny man in denim overalls, a green shirt, and a green cap with a lettered logo.

There were a few others with him; a somewhat familiar green reptilian with a comically large muzzle and a very concerned face was standing nearby, a metallic hand of orange armor was clamped over his shoulder, and some kind of fox wearing aviator's clothes was leaning in—suddenly interested in the angel.

He swallowed the odd feeling in his mouth, "I'm—"

…and froze again. Was that him? Did he really sound like that? He never remembered having a voice like that…or a voice at all, for that matter, just the pixilated sound indicating he'd been wounded. "I'm…fine…I think," he stated experimentally, testing his newfound vocal cords with every unsure word.

The person in front of him let out a relieved sigh and offered him a hand.

He accepted it and stood—again in shock at how tall he now was.

"Good! I thought we lost you there for a second," the person chuckled nervously.

"Never seen a newcomer do that before," the fox noted in a somewhat amused tone. "Kind of lost in the clouds for a minute…no pun intended."

The reptilian hummed, a questioning sort of note in some odd language.

"You know, because he's from Kid Icarus? The game that takes place in the clouds? Anyone? ANYONE?" the fox asked, turning to the armored person standing right behind him.

The metal lightly scratched as the person underneath shrugged.

Pit, meanwhile, was too busy looking around the place. It was an enlightened, outdoor entry plaza in front of a huge, silver-white mansion. The sun signaled it to be late morning as it illuminated the large, concrete circle below them—he took notice of a circle and off-centered crosshair embedded into the center. There were other people there, too. He counted twelve characters in total, including his four and the ones who were welcoming two other…"newcomers". A truck with the same logo as the concrete was currently driving away.

"Uh, excuse me," he asked, interrupting the four's conversation, "do you mind telling me where I am?"

"Huh? Oh, you're just outside the smash mansion," the fox answered.

"Where?"

"It's a housing for the competitors in Super Smash Brothers…you know, the fighting game? Didn't they tell you in programing?" the fox elaborated.

"No, I don't remember anything about that…" he trailed.

"They kept you out on it?" the person in the armor had a surprised note as well. _She_ had certainly remembered before the first time she was programmed for it, why shouldn't this newcomer?

"If keeping me out of it means being stuck in an empty void for a long time, then yea, they did," he answered.

"Hmm…Kid Icarus is a pretty old game…I guess they spent too much time getting you back up to date that they never actually activated you," the man said.

"That could be it," he confirmed, taking note of his enhanced look. "Wait, how long, exactly?"

"Oh, Pit," the armored person chuckled, "Your last game was about two decades ago."

"Twenty years?!" he squeaked, jumping back a little.

"Twenty years," the fox nodded before huffing an annoyed sigh. "Jeesh, Nintendo's been neglecting you. Anyway, come on! There's some people you ought to meet."

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><p>And thus, events passed. He met the faces of Nintendo, some new, some old. He was brought up to date with a winding tale of Nintendo's recent actions curtsy of Princess Zelda. Not the one he had first been familiarized with, the fair, red-headed maiden taken by Ganon; no, this was an elven lady with HD features and magic to boot. And her guise, Sheik, had a whole other story.<p>

Pit himself had been enrolled in the game's first preview with three other newcomers, and promptly had his nasal senses destroyed from a nuclear fart. He swore that he wasn't going to get within fifty feet of Wario ever again…

And then came the adventure most gamers knew as the Subspace Emissary, bringing his relations with the other 'Smashers' to new heights. His background already landed him in the memory of most the series mascots, but his skills in fighting and fan support didn't hurt, either.

He learned fighting maneuvers and stages, memorizing them so he could recite each Final Smash by memory. He soaked it all in, to serve as a reminder if he ever went into that dark place again.

He never wanted it to end; the fights, the friends, the familiarity he had begun to get into. But things end. His suspension in the darkness had ended, and now his acts in the light were coming to a close. Fighters were heading off to their home worlds again for more games, some across entire galaxies. Stages were being stored and items were being taken out. He found a passing deconstruction worker in every hallway and in the background of every stage.

It was a natural process; for every game, there was its credits. He didn't have much of a home world to go to, and not even a thousand determined players digging out their NES systems to play his game weren't going to bring back the "dead".

He found himself numbering the days till the game ended, till _he _ended and went back to hanging on with memory. When this one's credits rolled, so would his…

…but not quite yet, apparently.

As it turns out, one of his color swaps—the one dubbed "Dark Angel"—had inspired something. Something in the creator's mind, though whether it was just a thought that had nipped at his heels or something he took in from the backwash, who knows.

Whatever it was, that something turned to a plot. That plot developed into a story, and that story was edited upon again and again, given voice actors and gameplay, weapons and puzzles, options and cutscenes…

…and was about to take flight.

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><p>Four years later, four years waiting within the crossover atmosphere of <em>Super Smash Brothers<em>, he got his own game again.

_Kid Icarus: Uprising _was a fitting name, seeing how this series had been one with the forgotten ashes of the NES system but now rose back to the 3D glory of modern gaming. It had started out as a no-name program of mixed origin and somewhat odd controls, but blossomed into a full-fledged Kid Icarus game.

It was loved by critics and games alike, and introduced to Pit many more faces—evil and ally and somewhere in between. His one ally, the goddess Palutena, he found very happy to be with again. Finally, someone who truly remembered him!

All the new characters had their own liberties; it was a bit upsetting to find out that Phosopora and several other of the Underworld guardians he could have sworn were long gone had suddenly come to life again, not to mention Medusa herself. But one quest of mirror copying, pirate defeating, bomb disabling, soul stealing, and wing scorching later, the resurrected terrors were right back where they should be.

The lightly-taken atmosphere hid its darker spots just like the first two; a mixture of humoristic and stern play, blended together into a sometimes awkward, sometimes amusing game. It kept his popularity aloft and made any memories engraved, confirming his place in the gamer's hearts that he was sure had been lost to time.

They were kept busy with a few anime shorts afterwards, one somewhat of a trailer, one a three-part adventure, and one that reminded him of his hatred of garlic.

Two years after the new game, he found himself in Super Smash Bros again, alongside his goddess and the palate-swap-turned-dark-angel who started the whole ordeal. It seemed like reviving ancient legends was the new thing, as he now passed good ol' Little Mac and Mega Man in the halls.

He felt glad for them, and how there was that many fewer people stranded in the dark void. Just two or three, but two or three more back on board this unsteady ride called Life and two or three more kept out of doubt. A couple more for the gamers to remember and memorize, a couple more for them to fall in love with.

Soon enough, a Duck Hunt virtual console had been confirmed for the Wii U, and it seemed that the trio (yes, trio, as Palutena confirmed in a chat) would still be shooting for a long time. Kind of like his own series. Still shooting, still staying up, still keeping their meager featherweights aloft in the minds and hearts of gamers.

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><p><strong>This is a pretty good history lesson, actually, so listen close.<strong>

**_Kid Icarus _****started out as any other game would, but the producers worked themselves day and night to keep up with the release date to the point that they went Solid Snake and slept in cardboard boxes. No, for real, they did. Look it up. Then came the sequel with the odd ending that threw back to the story of Icarus, but after that it just kind of dropped off the planet for a while.**

**There were cameos (he played a violin in Tetris) and mini-games (Looking at you, Warioware), and then there was "Kid Icarus" and his appearance in the Captain N TV show (KIDICUS ICARICUS), and then he REALLY dropped off the face of the planet. Seriously, no references, no nothing. **

**Pit was actually planned for the first SSB—YEA, THAT'S RIGHT, HE COULD HAVE BEEN A VETERAN-but they had so many programming issues with his wings that they dropped it. DANG IT. Then along came Melee, and he got a chance. Among the three characters of Pit, the Ice Climbers, and the Balloon Bomber, the programmers chose the Ice Climbers for a new character...I wonder who the Balloon Bomber—**

**THEN, HALLELUIA, BRAWL!**

**His Dark Angel color swap inspired Dark Pit, thus the Mirror of Truth, thus Pandora, thus Pandora's Lair, thus the chapters, thus the plot, thus—you get the idea. Kid Icarus: Uprising got AWESOME reviews and was awarded Best Handheld Game of the Year by the Platinum Chalice Awards by the readers. Happy ending! AND NOW HE'S IN SSB4!**

**…****longest…author's note…****_ever_****. Have a good day and hug those Eevee, guys! See you!**


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